Assassins Creed: The Last Templar
by Digital Fox
Summary: The Templar's Poor Followers of Christ has keep a secret for decades, it is time Lucy Stillman, and Desmond Miles with the help of Altair to solve, could it be lost gold? A link to Ezio's past? or a Ancient Relic to end all time itself?


Assassins Creed

The Last Templar

*This is my side project, don't worry to all who read's the Star Fox fan-fiction, that is my main project it will still be continued.*

"It's too late", stated Lucy in a echo in Desmond genetic memory cells, "No were not losing Subject 17." Stated Warran Vidic, Lucy objected quickly in a response of Warran's loud mouth statement, "We are pulling him out of the animus, too much power is being loss in the Synchronization, if it continues he will die by neuro toxins in each memory cell." Warren Vidic pounded on the table, and shouted, "Damnit! Fine. We'll continue the next day." Desmond awoken from the synchronization he was light headed and felt sick, "Man, that never gets old." He was sitting on top of the Animus, like a child in a doctor's office. Lucy smiled at Desmond, "What?" Desmond responded in a low tone, and gave a faint laugh, Lucy was always optimistic and cheerful, "Nothing. Just thanks for the help." She nodded and worked on a holographic computer monitor, "Uh-uh, something's up. I can tell. Why did you need me for this…Thing?" Desmond questioned her every-move, "Well…" Lucy paused, and continued, "You said, you had an ancestor that was an assassin, and we need to simulate you to be one." Desmond shrugged, and continued with the conversation, "I'm not an assassin, I'm a bartender, nothing more. What do you want me to do? Mix drinks for the Templars?" Lucy laughed and giggled, "No, Desmond, your ancestor was an former assassin, and we think the Templars are hiding something. Why would they just vanish all of a sudden? That's what we want to find out." Desmond still perplexed, and grumbled, "I still see no difference, why would my ancestor this…Altair Ibn-La'Ahad guy? Be so intriguing to you? Is it because he's a former assassin and you think assassins are hot?" Lucy again giggled trying to toy with Desmond to keep him focused on her, and the former assassin "Are you sure you're not an assassin and more of a comedian? So…What's it like in Masyaf?" Desmond thought quickly, and replied "Hot, old, and medieval like. What else do you want to know?" She walked over to Miles, and tapped him on the shoulder, "That's it for tonight, you should get some sleep, Desmond. We got a long days worth of work. I don't want to be intruding." Desmond shook his head in a negative way, still seeing a horizon in the city. "It's still six." Miles protested, Lucy looked at him clearly in the eyes, "You have to get some sleep, you'll be in the animus for a long time." Miles hopped off the animus, and went into the door as Lucy followed Desmond to open the door with her ID Key-Card as she swiped it into the card swipper, the card initialized the door, as a green light blinked giving the confirmation as Miles went inside into his room in the lab."Good night, Miles." Stated Lucy in a scientist uniform and having her ID pinned unto her left chest, she had short blond hair, and a diamond shape face, skinny, and had blue eyes like the ocean. She gave a smile, giving Miles a sort of a comfort feeling. Miles gave a faint smile, and he said, "Yeah good night." The door quickly sealed itself tightly, and it made a slight beep noise confirming the door was closed. The room was inadequate, it had one bed. The sheets itself was in perfect condition no ruffles, no sags, just like a hospital bed. It had one desk carrying a journal of Desmonds thoughts, right next to it was a mechanical pencil, the room was warm, suitable room temperature for Miles. Desmond sat down on a black chair, opening his red journal he reached and stretched his arm to grab his mechanical pencil. As he tapped the white eraser giving a click, as led came out of the chamber, he firmly started to write down his ancestor's past.

_Today's date: November 2__nd__, Saturday, 2012._

_Name: Desmond Miles_

_I don't know why they're keeping me here still, I should be free making drinks for my friends. But I do find it fascinating that my ancestor Altair was an assassin, who could have ever know my families past was linked to an assassin? My father has a lot of explaining to do when I get out of this mess. I did over-hear though stating about a Templar holding a scroll about the future. Maybe he was one of the disciples of Jesus in disguise as a Templar? Who knows. Unless Warran's loud-mouth thinks this Templar is holding a treasure in a forbidden temple since they were a innovating financial techniques which we know it as banking of today. Well Warran, I'm here to tell you that I am not a pirate, I am an __assassin._

He sighed while he put down the pencil on the desk as he closed his journal and he set it aside on the desk, he decided to get up from the chair, and got into bed, he fell asleep quickly since there was nothing to do for entertainment. As he went to sleep, his mind went into a dream sequence, he was clouded in his vision of images. A spark of random images of Altair giving out hints and clues of the Templars invaded Miles brain, tossing and turning in his sleep, Warran walked into the room and was talking gently to Miles, ", wake-up" he said in a low tone in a thick rich accent, Miles still sleeping, his mind also included glyphic of symbols and ciphers, that Altair has given him to solve. "Miles, wake-up." Now getting irritated, he suddenly woke up as his eyes flattered open, "That's…Creepy..Doctor, don't hover around my bed, when I'm sleeping, it scares me." Joking aside, Warran was intrigued in his dream, "Did you see anything in your dreams? Hear, smell, thoughts?" Miles just said nothing, then admitted, "I saw petro glyphics of some kind…I don't know it was weird. You have anything, Doctor? Since you were a PhD in Neuropsychology? " Warran stated to Miles, "Dreams are a product of dissociated imagination, which is dissociated from the conscious self, and draws material resulting feedback in hallucinations or synchronization, by simulating sensory signals to drive the autonomous nerves. Dreams, when told,may communicate something that is not being said outright, also depicting regulating moods." Desmond was confused, and said, "English, please?" as he said it in a child like behavior. Warran sighed, "Dreams are marriages." Still perplexed, "But what does this mean?" Warran continued, "It means you are having visions from Altair, don't deny it." Desmond agreed, and wanted to see more visions again, but he had work to accomplish, and he joked around, "Thank you, . Can you make the rain fall next?" Warran just ignored the joke, and said rather harsh, "Mr. Miles, this isn't a game, if you think you can just start making jokes" He just sighed and rubbed his eyes with his index finger and his thumb gently trying to calm his nerves, "Miles, just get into the animus, and we'll be done with each other in know time." Lucy still prompting the animus, and she shook her head, "Did you have a good sleep?" Desmond shook his head, "Yeah, but over here woke me up." Lucy just smiled towards Miles, Warran shouted at Desmond as it was clearly echoed from the laboratory, "Miles! This isn't a time for chatter. Get inside the animus." Desmond just rolled his eyes and laid down onto the steel animus, he felt pressure points on his vertebrae giving an uncomfortable feeling to his lower back, a visor went over Miles head and it synchronized him into the medieval world of Jerusalem. A clouded vision occurred into the simulation, giving out glitches, and DNA sequences of Miles, then visions of Maysaf appeared discreetly, it felt like the world exploded into Miles mind, now in synchronization and full slumber, he was a different person.


End file.
